#linden - Hello Poetry

We met in lack, in longing, in irony and light tenderness. You sat on my dry branch, coincidental, casual, with broken wings, for me it was a sign. Nature has its rights: you in the air, without a nest, I anchored in breathing earth. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but it happened. Writing the dirty-gray reality of our world in color, under the skin, hoping our healing might come true. Enchanted, we entered parallel worlds. But these worlds have hard walls. What is safe for me imprisons you. You opened a window to freedom, and I felt fear of open space. My roots are sunk deep in hard earth, waiting calmly for the thaws of spring. I offer shelter to others, used to being invisible. I envy your wings. I fear your pain. But still, in our meeting We know how to coexist in the same space, calmer and gentler somehow

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Jan 30

Jan 30, 2026 at 8:23 PM UTC

Agnes-de-Lodz

Linden and Swift

We met in lack, in longing, in irony and light tenderness. You sat on my dry branch, coincidental, casual, with broken wings, for me it was a sign. Nature has its rights: you in the air, without a nest, I anchored in breathing earth. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but it happened. Writing the dirty-gray reality of our world in color, under the skin, hoping our healing might come true. Enchanted, we entered parallel worlds. But these worlds have hard walls. What is safe for me imprisons you. You opened a window to freedom, and I felt fear of open space. My roots are sunk deep in hard earth, waiting calmly for the thaws of spring. I offer shelter to others, used to being invisible. I envy your wings. I fear your pain. But still, in our meeting We know how to coexist in the same space, calmer and gentler somehow

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Go somewhere else where I can see you Smile Go somewhere where there's light on the Leaves Somewhere where there's the calling of Geese Where their clamour floats like plankton through the Breeze And you are sitting under the linden Tree On the spot where you feel most Safe Between two big Roots Wearing Mother's Coat

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Oct 14, 2020

Oct 14, 2020 at 10:28 PM UTC

q-d-malcolm

Go there for me

Go somewhere else where I can see you Smile Go somewhere where there's light on the Leaves Somewhere where there's the calling of Geese Where their clamour floats like plankton through the Breeze And you are sitting under the linden Tree On the spot where you feel most Safe Between two big Roots Wearing Mother's Coat

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A linden sways in Berlin’s air, soft and still, yet drifting where it once had danced in golden light, now falling, fading out of sight. Once it stood, so strong, so free, born of spring’s sweet memory. Once it warmed in summer’s grace, now autumn’s breath has torn its place. Yet long before the cold winds came, I was the storm, I bore the rain. I dimmed your light, I broke your soul, never knowing the weight, the toll. Your roots, once deep, began to fade, drowned in shadows my heart had made. And though I never wished you pain, my weight was yours to bear in vain. And as our leaves drift to the ground, we stand as ghosts, lost, unfound. For you, my light, my heart, my stay, are gone—and all is cold and grey. Love once held me close to you, like roots that held my world in view. But without you, what remains? An empty vessel, a soul in chains. So now I call the wind once more, to bear us where no sorrows soar, to dance again, then set us free, a fleeting breath upon the sea. Through restless tides and whispering trees, it sings of loss, it hums of peace, it stirs my soul, it beats my mind, then leaves no trace of us behind. Yet know this truth, to most unknown— leaves will never die alone. They follow where the love is blown.

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Feb 13, 2025

Feb 13, 2025 at 3:35 AM UTC

TristanCor

Where the Love is Blown

A linden sways in Berlin’s air, soft and still, yet drifting where it once had danced in golden light, now falling, fading out of sight. Once it stood, so strong, so free, born of spring’s sweet memory. Once it warmed in summer’s grace, now autumn’s breath has torn its place. Yet long before the cold winds came, I was the storm, I bore the rain. I dimmed your light, I broke your soul, never knowing the weight, the toll. Your roots, once deep, began to fade, drowned in shadows my heart had made. And though I never wished you pain, my weight was yours to bear in vain. And as our leaves drift to the ground, we stand as ghosts, lost, unfound. For you, my light, my heart, my stay, are gone—and all is cold and grey. Love once held me close to you, like roots that held my world in view. But without you, what remains? An empty vessel, a soul in chains. So now I call the wind once more, to bear us where no sorrows soar, to dance again, then set us free, a fleeting breath upon the sea. Through restless tides and whispering trees, it sings of loss, it hums of peace, it stirs my soul, it beats my mind, then leaves no trace of us behind. Yet know this truth, to most unknown— leaves will never die alone. They follow where the love is blown.

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